


Campfire

by stray_space



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Depression, M/M, What am i even doing..., also there is Jisung's boyfriend who you can guess, depression is mentioned so be careful, mostly in Daniel's POV, this is sad but not really?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stray_space/pseuds/stray_space
Summary: In which Daniel is an angel who is essentially clueless about his past life.And then he met Ong Seongwoo who means perhaps a bit too much.





	1. 0. White lights

**Author's Note:**

> Vietnamese version here: https://my.w.tt/Xww5sq1vcU

**Chapter 0: White light**

 

“Close your eyes, then breathe.”

 

Daniel has lost count on the number of times he has sit in this same room, listening to those same words, again and again.

 

“Close your eyes, breathe deeply, then tell me of what can be remembered.”

 

The repeated words once again filters throughout empty space, with whiteness that looms over a room too spacy for only two. Daniel heard the words being recited as if they were part of a renowned poem and his head aches. And he tries to recall for even the smallest memories, only to see white lights in midst of vast, vast darkness.

 

There are only emptiness and white lights that fell in the perhaps too much empty memory jar, with Daniel having nothing but void reflections on the last moments of his life.

/

.

Ah, right. Daniel has already passed away.

Since three years ago.

.

 

 

“Heaven”, as the living would call this place, is not actually something astounding, but simply a same old boring, parallel world. A day of Daniel still starts approximately two hours after the first alarm (even with six alarms set in tow), he would still struggle to get out a piece of jelly stuck in his gum (a habit that would send normal people to the dentist), and then dig up the mess on his bed (dirty laundry and snacks and comics and more) to get a decent enough outfit-of-the-day, all while munching on a slice of toast sprinkled with too much ketchup, then rushed to his all-so-heavenly workplace.

 

Daniel’s life, as most “model angels” would see it, is a mess from head to toe: he is still keeping all bad habits from the life he once led (such as reading comics till the morning and sleep-talking and munching on jellies the entire day), and still freaks out over the smallest possible things (like bugs, the bane of his existence, really).

 

All in all, there is little difference from dead-Daniel and living-Daniel, but one thing only:

Angels do not feel pain.

 

This, Daniel figured out as he fell over, a wrist heavily hitting the floor and cracking bones could be heard. It was a B-boy move gone wrong, something that must have once been the thrill of life for Daniel all those years ago. And yet, instead of feeling lucky, Daniel feels as if he is missing something important, something he must have once held close.

 

There is no knowing, however, and Daniel would just go on with the not-so-ideal afterlife had it not been for one particular event.

/

 

The job of a new angel (Daniel’s three to many’s thousands), is a total bore, with the endless streams of unfamiliar names and meaningless dates, and even the lunchbreak could not make up for all the tire he gets. The food during the lunchbreak, is funnily enough, actually heavenly, but there would be people that breaks into tears as they receive news from the living loved ones, sometimes as bittersweat as “My husband has moved on”, some as joyful like “My daughter is getting married”, or sometimes tear-jerking, “We are finally seeing each other again”.

Daniel, as usual, has nothing to say nor to cry about, since one can only tell the same tales of the past for so many times.

.

 

It was weird, how everyone’s memories are all crystal clear, how they remember their past lives down to exact details. And then there is Daniel, who can only recall the sound of the name “Kang Daniel”, a result from the sad fact that nobody can pronounce “Euigeon” correctly, his bag packed with jelly, the wind rushing by his ears as he skates at night by the riverside, the thrill of his body moving on cue with music, the sports clothes as he went to Seoul to follow a much desired dream, and something, something painful there that Daniel, for all of his life after death, cannot recall.

/

.

.

In the same white room that Daniel has gone to for the entirety of his stay in heaven, the Head Angel uses a book to recount the lives of  his “angels”. Daniel would often sit on the chair in the middle, close his eyes and breathe and try to fill in a much empty book that recounts the life of once-alive Daniel, especially the moments leading up to his death.

 

There is one big picture in the book (that is not even half-full), a pictures that spreads onto two facing pages, depicting only the white lights he has seen time and time again.

 

“Maybe it was a traffic accident that killed you.” The Head Angel would say, everytime.

 

But as stubborn as Daniel is, it cannot be that simple, for the lights are blinding but not pain-inducing, it brings about something irrational, something that seeps into Daniel’s no longer beating heart yet he can’t shape it, can’t figure it out.

 

For three years, Daniel tries, looking at the book, searching within himself.

And for three years, he fails, again and again and again.

.

.

 

Today marks exactly three years since the day Daniel arrived at the gate of heaven, confused and lost and not knowing.

Today also marks the exact three years since Daniel last set foot on earth, for today he has received his first mission: to guide a soul to heaven without lingering regrets.

 

 

Three years since the white lights and three years since his passing, Daniel wonder if he can finally know what of him had gone wrong.

/

/

/

He landed in the familiar crowded Seoul, with people moving round and about in an endless stream. He felt perplexed to have people walk through his invisible body, made of strange soul material, without any hesitation (though Daniel would be worried if there is any), and saw the sky, clouded and winter-grey. Heaven-Seoul was much warmer, Daniel thought, as snow fell through him and a gust of wind blazes by, his steps quickened along the noisy street. He caught an advertisement video playing far away on the top of a building that reaches the sky, a handsome man that, strangely seemed familiar, holding some type of products with a commercial smile.

 

7 days to lead a soul, to make whoever dying leave behind no regrets, that is Daniel’s mission to fulfilled.

 

(And also to maybe, maybe, get a glimpse of whoever Daniel was, all those times that were left behind.)

 

.

 

The destination, as listed on the somewhat strange mission paper (mapped out and has only a single name), is a penthouse in an area for the rich. Daniel’s feet somehow move familiarly towards the lift, to the East of the building, not needing to check the map twice. A man stepped into the same space, harshly ended whatever it is on this phone, pushed the button to floor 25, and Daniel felt something strange in his stomach, like this has been done many times before.

 

(It is strange, death was supposed to make Daniel feel less, and yet here he is with emotions that remained unnamed.)

.

.

 

((Even with missing memories, there are things that Daniel knew for certain: that he belongs to the practice room blasting loud music, dancing his life away, the air stinking with sweats of people holding the same dreams, that he belongs to the dusty fields where there are people moving along with the beats of music and there are people who cheers and follows, to the windy square of the city hall where the crowd got excited watching impulsive street buskings, done without plan. And yet, where he is heading – a luxurious penthouse, too neat and too tidy in the expensive center of Seoul, fits perfectly into Daniel’s puzzle of missing memories.))

 

The elevator stopped, and Daniel was startled as the man beside him screeched with the loudest voice:

“Ong Seongwoo!! Get the fuck out of the house!!!”

 

And whoever Ong Seongwoo maybe, it was the same name on the paper given to Daniel by the Head Angel – his mission, his soul to guide. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so......... this was actually written in english, then vietnamese, then english again because the author is really indecisive and also does not know what is happening at all.  
> It was actually finished so the updating will be quick, I hope (there's still editing and whenever i do that i kind of rewrite the entire thing)
> 
> Please give me feedbacks i may freak out but i need feedbacks !!!


	2. 1. Ong Seongwoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About Kang Daniel and Ong Seongwoo, all those years ago.

The door didn’t bulge, at least not until the man in the elevator (Kim Jaehwan, Daniel learnt from his screaming of  “If today I don’t fucking strangle you, Seongwoo, then I swear to god I’m not Kim Jaehwan!!”), kicked the door harshly time one hundred plus one.

 

(It may not matter, but Daniel is worried about whether the door can actually hold, and also about the state of Jaehwan’s limb)

 

Ong Seongwoo (a weird name), must have thought the same as Daniel, seeing that he opened the door just as Jaehwan delivered kick number one hundred and two. He looks scuffled with unbrushed hair and wrinkled clothes, yet still maintained an incredibly handsome look. (Daniel later realized it is the same man from the advertisement.. which, makes this unsurprising because this man is kind of a visual god).

A handwave from Seongwoo, who was still looking anywhere but Jaehwan’s direction was all it took for Jaehwan to stormed in before giving the door a final harsh kick.

.

.

.

 

The living room stinks of alcohol.

 

Daniel, for one who downs up to 5 bottles at a time, on a daily basis, for some reasons feels extremely nauseous.

 

/

“Are you drinking again?” Jaehwan asks, his nose scrunched up in digusst.

 

“When did I not?” Ong Seongwoo grumbles, his eyes still wander anywhere but there “This is not even the normal amount for the household, what is even your point?”

 

“Why did you tell Minhyun you are not coming?”

 

Seongwoo turns his head mid-laugh, only to freeze in his steps as his eyes meet Daniel’s. There is something unreadable in the way Seongwoo hold his gaze, his eyes dark and glazed and Daniel would choke under the stare had Jaehwan not spoken.

 

“Seongwoo.” Jaehwan whispers, his tone not harsh but demanding, desparate.

 

Seongwoo stares directly at Daniel,

 

“I’m your hyung.”

 

Jaehwan stumbles at his words, very clearly confused:

“Seongwoo?”

 

“I’m your hyung, so do talk with respect.”

Seongwoo’s gaze is stone-hard, still not leaving Daniel’s, for even a second.

 

(Daniel feels, knows, the one this is directed at is not Jaehwan in the front, but him, dead-Daniel, who still can’t read Seongwoo’s deep dark eyes.)

 

Taking advantage of the silence from Jaehwan’s confusion, Seongwoo continues: “Ah, why did I not go? Because for once, it is stupid.” His voice is mocking, there is a smallest tilt to his mouth. “Why do I need to attend, a stupid, wasteful, annual event, held to commemorate a dead person, one that no matter what, would stay dead? Nothing changes, nothing gives, just people exchanging stupid, meaningless comfort words over nothing.”

 

“Why did I not go, Jaehwan?” Seongwoo breathes, his eyes staring directly into Daniel’s hard and firm and angry.

 

“Because Kang Daniel is dead. He has been fucking dead for the longest fucking time.”

 

Seongwoo breaks into an endless laughter, one that is so hollow both Daniel and Jaehwan remain speechless and scared, and then a toast is given to empty air:

“But if you ask, then I will offer nicely. Want a cheers to the dead?”

 

Jaehwan shakes his head, fists clenched tightly and lips swollen from continuous biting.

 

“No? That’s unfortunate. Now please, by all means, invite yourself out.”

And the transparent liquid is drained down Seongwoo’s throat, still shaking with mock laughter, all at once.

/

 

.

.

(Daniel can feels, so very clearly, memories by memories slowly filling up his once empty jar.)

.

 

Summer of Seoul, seven years ago, was scroatching hot, was what Daniel thought as he moved here from a sandy Busan, all in pursuit of the thrill when dancing with all his might. He practiced with passion in mind, the happiness to be able to dance freely and rigoriously, forgetting the inconvenience of juggling two part time jobs and a lonely apartment with no air-conditioner, of only 7 meter square; ignoring the days when his wallet got too thin for so much as a tiny bar of chocolate, but is still enough for another pair of dancing shoes.

Busan seven years ago had Mom and Peter and Rooney, no Daniel in sight. And Seoul had Daniel, all alone but with a lifetime dream, with excitement when moving along with music, whether at the bright practice room, or on the dusty street or elsewhere.

 

Spring of Seoul, six years and four months ago, there was a nagging Jisung with the softest smile, a mischevious sister with her endless pranks, old Sarang who Daniel for the life of his, cannot come close within a 10 meter radius, and the same thrill at practice rooms, dancing his life away.

 

Summer of Seoul, six years ago, there was a chocolate bar given to Daniel on a day when his wallet is getting too thin once again, an Ong Seongwoo (not Gong Seongwoo but Ong Seongwoo, not Hong Seongwoo but Ong Seongwwo, said the man himself), who plays around with the weirdest gag, who makes the best jokes and an Ong Seongwoo that also understands the thrill of dancing (even if later on he follows acting instead), and the exsparated yell of “Daniel, where’s the goddamn “hyung”?” and the numerous time they talk in a strange language for the two of them all alone.

 

Winter of Seoul, five years ago, there was a first kiss in the time of Christmas’s Eve, one that tastes of marshmallows and cocoa and taiyakis with custard fillings. There was the unapproved look of ever the mother hen Jisung, and the first role in a drama series where Seongwoo is starring for real.

.

.

.

.

/

Once-alive Kang Daniel of three years ago, slowly moves towards Ong Seongwoo of the present, when Jaehwan has all but given up.

The lip biting ceased, and Daniel open his mouth only to find himself unable to form words.

 

Because Seongwoo is sobbing in mind, all throughoutly broken and disbelieving and done with the entire world.

 

“Why haven’t you disappeared, Daniel?”

“Kang Daniel, you are dead, you have been dead for three years.”

 

/

The soju in the bottle slowly drains, the morning passes, and yet Kang Daniel and Ong Seongwoo maintain the very same distance ever since the start of it all, so close yet so very far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is one of the hardest one to write, because for the life of me i suck at conversations.  
> there will be actual events in the next chapter, unlike this one though!!!
> 
> ((tbh i think all the hits come from me myself.
> 
> ((but hey, if there is actually anybody but myself: small, tiny question, how do you think daniel died?


	3. 2. It's raining teardrops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoon Jisung makes an appearance and there are really too many things that need to be said.
> 
> (also, the shortest chapter of the entire series, i think)

“Ong Seongwoo,”

“Seongwoo!”

“Seongwoo-hyung”  
Daniel may as well been a log that is currently at his wit’s end, with Seongwoo downright ignoring him.

“For once, Kang Daniel doesn’t say “Seongwoo-hyung”. So if you are actually going to say something, at least say it correctly.” 

“Can you please just listen to me?”

Seongwoo tries to pour himself another glass, before noticing that his soju was all gone. He turns, gives Daniel the longest, most tired sigh before finally speaking up:

“And what is it you want to talk about so badly anyways?”

“Ong Seongwoo, listen, you are dying in seven days –“

A brow is raised, and Seongwoo keeps on spinning the empty soju bottle, which scratches on the glass table noisily, his face calm as if death is as simple a business as any other routine of the day.

“And?”

“And I’m here to help you, I don’t know, sort out everything, dividing the assets, achieving a feat before, you know, moving on.”

At this, Seongwoo breaks into hysterical laughter, almost unable to hold himself together as he continues laughing for a solid two minutes, shaking like a leaf as if he dying in seven days is the funniest joke told, the most ridiculous thing in the world.  
In the two minutes that last a century, Daniel stands, watching Seongwoo constant laughter, unable to grasp the laughter, struggle to understand even until Seongwoo’s back ceases shaking and he is wiping laughing tears from the corner of his eyes.

There is a smirk and an underlying venom in Seongwoo next words, as he continues with the harsh smile, a hand over eyes, shielding them from the blinding golden lamps.

“Kang Daniel, you are three years too late.” 

“Kang Daniel, what do you think I have left to move on?”

It was not supposed to make sense, having nothing left while being a famous actor, with advertisements playingon repeat on the big sky trees on busy streets, living in an expensive penthouse in the center of luxury, having screaming fans and fawning people and much, much more.  
But then Daniel remembers Jaehwan’s words, remembers the living room that stinks of soju, and the cold, harsh tone “you are three years late”, and he realizes.

“Ong-hyung, I....” The words fell out before Daniel knows that he is speaking, and then he knows there is nothing to say.

There is a tiniest flinch in Seongwoo, and he sighs, putting down the empty soju bottle after failing to drink from it one more time.

“You believe me?”, Daniel said.  
(While just now you treated this is a joke?, Daniel did not say.)

The bottle is slammed down so hard Daniel fears the table would crack, and Seongwoo is quick to his feet, already up and moving, towards the bedroom with door slightly ajar.  
He asks, mid-changing, putting on a long coat that covers the whole body,  
“If I visit you, would you stop playing around, and finally disappear?”

“Seongwoo, listen, this is not me playing around!”

“Please”, there was vulnerability, gone the moment seen, “So you are real? Kang Daniel in all his glory, back from the land of the dead?”

He grabs a hat and a mask, effectively covering everything seeable. A sunglasses goes above Seongwoo’s eyes, red and stained with tears.  
He slowly turns to Daniel, with the same commercial smile from the ads, one that Daniel finally sees up close, so scarily similar to the one saw just hours ago, far away.

“Let’s go.”  
/

(The only good point from being a ghost is inability to be locked up, Daniel thought this while following Seongwoo who slammed the door in his face, jammed a couple of numbers on the cellphone, spoke in hushed tones, and out of the house like a storm.)  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Seongwoo doesn’t drive, his manager picks him and Daniel up near the building, then drives to the far city, a countryside graveyard where Daniel lays. He doesn’t buy flowers nor snacks, not looking at Daniel for half of the ride.

(Memories run in Daniel’s mind like an old record tape, all those about an Ong Seongwoo five years ago, with his mother’s car, driving Daniel so very far away. It was often Daniel who asked to be driven, whether to eat some random food, or to see a scenery praised to the skies on the internet. And for most the time, Daniel would get disappointed, for it would rain, for the food would not meet expectaions, the view not beautiful enough, the servings and the wide wide land not satisfying enough for Daniel’s endless wants.

Seongwoo of five years ago, with a smirk at the downpour outside and a twinkle in his eyes, would proudly declare to a pouting Daniel, that why need everything when Seongwoo alone is enough, for he is both beautiful and full on the eyes.)

(There was little thing Daniel could do then, so very judging of Seongwoo’s endless self-confidence , but god, deep down he knew that it was all true, and that Daniel loved him too much for anything to be really wrong.)

(That was the beautiful then.)

.  
/  
The black screen lays a clear barrier between them and the manager, and Daniel feels safe, and thinks, maybe he can talk to Seongwoo for real, (if he first would stop ignoring Daniel). Seongwoo side profile, despite being tired and worn out, however, with pretty lashes and three moles that line up like the stars, makes Daniel flushes deeply because that is as beautiful as he remembers, Seongwoo, eyes at the far sky.  
He stumbles over his words, ends up asking something completely unrelated instead of what was meant to be said:

“Why don’t you drive this time?”

And that makes Seongwoo turns. His eyes somewhat widen for reasons unknown and for a moment Daniel feels abashed, thinking maybe he had just done something so utterly wrong.

Seongwoo laughed, however, eyes crinkling up and this time on this face is not the dreaded commercial smile.  
“Are you an idiot or something?” 

Daniel totally hears a giggle in the tone. The words sink in, however, and he gasps:  
“What?”

“Wanna see headlines of “Hallyu star Ong Seongwoo drunk drinking on death date of ex-boyfriend?” That would be nice, I wouldn’t need a whole seven days to die then.”

Right, Seongwoo was drinking, and now Daniel feels like the stupiest man in the world.

He pouts, thoughts written clearly all over his face, and feels Seongwoo’s gaze, not leaving him even once.

It was weird, that was funny, like living and smiling and bickering all over again,   
but then they are travelling to his grave, Seongwoo very much too drunk and that, was not supposed to be funny, not even relatively close.  
/  
.  
.  
.

“Seongwoo?” Daniel asks at the entrance of the gray graveyard, the black vans driven by the manager now far away and out of sight.

“Use the honorifics.” Seongwoo grumbles half-heartedly, his steps quicken towards Daniel’s tomb.

“Hyung?” 

“What?”

“Did we start dating five years ago?”

This stops Seongwoo, who turns to look at something perhaps too far away.  
“Why do you ask if you already know?”  
(There is something in the tone, something Daniel can’t quite read.)

“And then, what happened?”

Seongwoo starts to bites his lips, his fists clenches. Daniel wants him to stop and yet does not know how.

“You don’t remember?” 

A slight tremble. Then an answering nod.

“Dated for a while. Then broke up. Then you died.”

“That’s it?” ( That can’t be true )

“What more do you want?”

Daniel holds a breath, lets it out.

“Why did we break up?”, he said. (Even when we love each other so much the world could be on fire?, he didn’t say)

Seongwoo stops then, hesitates to find his words, his voice steady even when he is not so, clearly seen.  
“Daniel, it was all set in stone. We were not meant to be.”

“Seongwoo?”

“Let me pray.” Seongwoo says, curtly before dropping it all.

(Oh, Daniel finds out that they have reached his grave, boring and clean and the picture isn’t even nice.)

And the conversation dies there.

/

(If it was all set in stone, then why am I late for three years, Seongwoo, Daniel did not say.  
If it was all set in stone, why were you drunk, why did Jaehwan have to find you and yell at you, Daniel did not say.  
Ong Seongwoo, you are a pretty damn good liar, Daniel did not say.)

.  
.  
/  
He would ask, really, ask why Seongwoo thinks a break up of them is meant to be, ask everything about the blank holes in the broken memory he still has, only to forget everything at the trembling words of a Seongwoo, his masks crumbling, bits by bits and trying to refrain from shaking.

“I’m sorry, Niel-ah.”

Daniel then realizes, ever since the beginning, since Seongwoo looks him in the eyes behind Jaehwan, there was never a “Niel-ah”. It was like, everything is meant for the Daniel who lies under the ground, not him, never him.

(Stupid, Daniel chides at himself.

Stupid stupid Daniel, angels do not feel pain.)  
.

 

/  
|  
.

Five minutes after, the praying is done and Seongwoo clasps his hands, eyes wandering around aimlessly, until he finds Daniel, in the very same place as before. The sky is grey and cloudy but it is dry, and written in Seongwoo’s eyes are nothing short of pure pain.

(Daniel, why are you still here? Daniel, I visited you, why haven’t you be gone?)  
Seongwoo’s dark eyes glistens, even with barely any light.  
.

Droplets of water falls on the grey stones that paved the grave, leaving behind dark, wet puddles.

There is heavy breathing drom Seongwoo, who straightens his back, facing everywhere but Daniel’s where.  
“It’s raining, let’s go.” He said.

(But hyung-ah, the sky is still dry, the unspoken words, never to come.)  
.  
.  
Only a few steps away from the grave before Seongwoo halts, and before Daniel can starts to ask, another voice starts softly:  
“Ong Seongwoo?”

It’s Jisung, surprised but gentle as always, on his hands are the brightest sunflowers, in contrast of a cloudy day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is my absolute favorite and also the last chapter I'm done editing....  
> (i hope i can get things out on time)


	4. 3. Rooney, Peter, and sunflowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful memories, and Seongwoo feeling fine for a while after all those time.

Jisung may as well be a part of Daniel’s family, for he understands Daniel more than anyone, even more so than Seongwoo, and perhaps even more than Daniel himself, so it’s no surprise he will come. But because Jisung knows Daniel better than anyone, Seongwoo finds it strange that on his hands are sunflowers, for Daniel’s favorite, unmistakeable, unforgettable for this was repeated again and again years ago, are hydrangaes, in purple and in blue.

 

(Spring of Seoul, four years ago, in Seongwoo’s much bitter memory, he arrived at his empty apartment after a boring press talk for the upcoming movie, only to find that Daniel had sent him a newly taken photo, blurry with ramble words captioned (but so very him). It was of the empty window side of Daniel’s apartment of seven-meter-square, covered in dirt and an a watering can painted in the brightest pink. Daniel had said, that he wanted to grow some flowers to freshen the room, that other flowers are too cliché so he chose hydrangeas.

 

Seongwoo still remembers, Daniel also said, jokingly, that should he runs out of money he would harvest them to sell, maybe as wedding flowers. And Seongwoo of the time could not help but think of their wedding flowers, in Daniel’s favorite hydrangeas, in purple and in blue.

 

And so he remembered telling Daniel to save the flowers for the wedding days, for hydrangeas can mean a promise, can mean sincere feelings, and received a long silence that Seongwoo knew was Daniel getting embarrassed, so cutely red and teasable.

 

“You always speak things as cringey as the cliché romance dramas.” Daniel struggled to say, blushing the hue of roses.

 

“Nothing to be done though, since I’m an actor.” Seongwoo non-chalantly laughed, before adding, at Daniel’s childish pouting.

 

“A handsome one at that, too.”

.

.

 

Time proved that Daniel is not good at planting, and as Jisung gave up on having to remind “Seongwoo’s lazy asshole” everyday to water, Daniel’s window side became destinied to remain empty, never to bear any more plants.

The wedding flowers of self-grown hydrangeas, were as such, promptly cancelled. _Forever, time proves._

 

A long, long time after, Seongwoo found out, that Daniel’s many promises to stay followed the hydrangeas, disappear forever and not to be found. He also found out, that hydrangeas also mean the sincerest apology - one that Seongwoo never need, did not want.)

 

.

.

.

/

.

“Sunflowers?”, Seongwoo asks, gesturing at the sunflowers that Jisung is laying on the gray tombstone. It was weird, the blinding yellow somehow soothing, perfectly matched with the grey paving stones.

 

Jisung bursts into laughter upon hearing:

“You both are idiots, really.”

 

Seongwoo eyes soul-Daniel standing in the corner (still not sure if he is real or a product of Seongwoo’s overactive imagination out of vain), sees an expression of confusion matching that of himself, and promptly decides to stay silent for Jisung to pray.

 

Watching soul-Daniel trying to listen to words that an unaware Jisung are, ironically, whispering to dead-Daniel is amusing, perhaps even comical, though that definitely not match the situation at hand.

Jisung being Jisung though, with his ever charm, whips his head up quickly after saying his prayers and turns to Seongwoo with chattings that go on for miles:

 

“So when are you going to see Rooney and Peter?”

 

“No, really, there are no dads as irresponsible as you both. Left your kids with poor Jisung, all two of them, while uncle Jisung is growing weak and old. Ever since the very start, what did I say? That you guys have to be responsible and take proper care of the kids? But did you two idiots listen? No!!

 

““Jisung-hyung is sooo responsible we needn’t worry”, you said, “Jisung-hyung is their grandpa, isn’t him?”, you said.”

 

“God, did you two ever use “Jisung-hyung” except to ask for help, you hearthens? Since when did “director Yoon Jisung” became “Free baby sitter” in your eyes??”

 

 

 

/

(Seongwoo still remembers, Daniel once said while they were arguing over god-knows-what, Rooney on his gigantic sixty centimeters of a shoulder, a hand holding Peter and the other hand holding the bags with necessities that Seongwoo knew was gathered only for show, that kids pleaded no guilt, that Seongwoo had no heart, that he was an asshole who would not take care of their kids and Jisung is the only good man in life.

They are similar, Seongwoo thinks, Jisung and Daniel and their tendency to rambles on and on about practically nothing and yet is still amsusing and charming everytime.)

 

Maybe it was the reminder of the memories that Seongwoo has always rejected, or maybe it was the stun before Jisung’s endless rant, too naturally, too casually despite everything, that makes Seongwoo not realize he is being dragged, following the rush steps of the normally gentle Jisung, hearing something among the lines of silence meaning acceptance.

 

It’s okay, Seongwoo guesses.

 

(Rooney, Peter, long time no see.)

 

/

.

.

.

The destination is a café, with a sign of the logo of a female angel with white wings, not very cutely drawn,  walls painted in pastel pink and blue. The ceiling is in beige and the floor is wood-plastered and there are plants, homey and soft and fitting of Jisung, though not of the time itself.

The smell of coffee is nice, there is a head of wavy gold by the coffee machines behind the counter, and Seongwoo realizes it has been too long, and there is so many of Jisung he hasn’t known.

 

This, Jisung must have noticed for he offers the softest smile, seats himself on the cushioned chair by a pot of irises, and waves for Seongwoo to get seated, answering without the questions being voiced:

“It was opened two months ago, nothing much to attract customers except good coffee and the handsome barista, I guess.”

 

That was strange, Seongwoo realizes, the first time someone who knows everything (who knows Daniel), talks about the casual things and not the reason why Seongwoo is in darkness and not willing to go out by himself.

And it was a joke asking to be continued, and Seongwoo finds himself laughing, connecting the lines and picking up the story:

“So, you want free promotion by taking here a celebrity?”

 

“Pfft, well, maybe. The owner would object though, using celebrities is not his way. Something among the lines of it is the products that matter.”

 

Seongwoo is prepared to continue, but he can smell coffee just beside and turns his head. The owner, in an apron of the same pastels of pink and blue, gives Seongwoo a light tap, then swiftly puts down the cups of coffee, not a single drop dripped out.

There are Rooney and Peter, behind the man with head in soft blond, and they wave their tails confusedly, as if hesitating to come anymore close.

 

“Latte for Jisung, and whatever for Seongwoo.” The owner of the café, also the barista, and roomate and bedmate of Jisung (and owner of his heart), spoke in a completely straight tone.

 

Seongwoo snaps out of his daze:

“I did not order whatever though?”

 

“I know, but drink up anyways.” A non-chalant answer as he urges Seongwoo to try.

 

That is worrisome, but since he cannot avoid drinking forever, Seongwoo braves himself and try. One sip and then two. Seongwoo takes in the flavor and for god’s sake---

 

Jisung starts to smile cheekily and Seongwoo can’t help but stating in disbelief:

 

“This, this is warm milk. You gave me warm milk?”

 

“Marketing strategy of making a lasting impression on the celebrity?” The barista gives him a question that doesn’t really sound like one, and also a half-hearted shrug. Peter and Rooney, the damn traitors, even meow in approval.

 

“It is supposed to be a good impression you aim to!!”

 

“Who’s the one with a marketing degree here, Seongwoo? Right, it’s me. So it is I who know what’s going on.”

And that shuts Seongwoo up. This, does sound like it makes sense?

 

This cracks Jisung up and Seongwoo can’t help but follow, struggling to let out words as simple as “For real?”

 

It seems like the lack of tension in Seongwoo comforts Peter and Rooney, for they finally jumps at him and nudges, like all the time before. And then the owner simply picks up his tray and throws a sentence back, which cracks Jisung up all over again.

 

“That, and I think you, Seongwoo, is in serious need of some milk.”

/

.

.

For the first time in three years, there is no Daniel in mind for an entirety of a conversation, even if the one talking to him is most accustomed to Daniel. The topic varies onto practically much everything, from Jisung’s married sister who still doesn’t hold back on stanning idols, to having to buy an extra beds because he keeps getting sleep overs from uninvited guests. Seongwoo nudges a sleeping Peter, Rooneys walking comfily around his legs, and there are satisfying meows over the span of hours.

 

Seongwoo looks at it watches as the sun sets, apologizes to Jisung before getting up. Daniel, surprisingly hasn’t disturbed them, eerily silence in the corner of the cozy place.

 

Seven steps way from the café, Seongwoo hears Jisung, voice softly carrying over, waving his hands:

“Do you know why I chose sunflowers?”

 

Seongwoo tilts his head, a sign that speaks of “no, I still don’t get it.”

 

Jisung smiles, the corners of his mouth pulling all the way up and his eyes crinkle.

“Because, Daniel loves you, and you love sunflowers.”

 

“And also, because you guys are both the greatest idiots I have ever known.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And next chapter, comes the first reveals and things finally picks up!


	5. 4. I miss you, too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories of sunflowers in the mind of Daniel, and Seongwoo facing the present as it actually is.

Daniel of the presence, now remembers so very clearly, the first bouquet of sunflowers in the journey of Kang Daniel and Ong Seongwoo. It was for the Ong Seongwoo many years ago, when the series he starred in was unexpectedly well-received and the ratings surprisingly high. The staff and actors are thus rewarded with a four-day vacation to beautiful and peaceful Jeju, and Seongwoo so desperately wants to have Daniel goes along, but they both know it’s too risky for Seongwoo and for themselves.

 

Daniel of the presence, now remembers so very clearly, while he was still stuck in a basement with barely functional white lights, grasping onto the fragile dream unknown whether is able to come true, Seongwoo was out in the open, a name that upon mentioned even only slightly, one can hear high school girls yelping and fawning and housewives nodding to themselves.

 

(Daniel of the past would wait in the darkness in the house of Seongwoo, then a quite spacy apartment near the agency, in hand a beautifully bright bouquet of sunflowers, for the flowershop near his practime room has run out of hydrangeas and everything else. The door would open after hours, and there was Seongwoo, in a white T-shirt with the first button opened, so fitting of him, hand pulling along the luggage, a grey hoodie tied onto his waist, and blooming all over his face was the brightest smile.

 

“Miss me?”, Seongwoo sing-sang, pulling up the bag towards the sofa.

 

“Absolutely nobody misses you.” Daniel stuck out his lips while passing Seongwoo the bouquet of sunflowers, all in bright yellow. “Congratulations on the movie, and also on the dumbass second-lead that somehow managed to get fans.”

 

“Right, you are not any body, you are a cat~” Seongwoo said in giggles, putting down the bouquet and pulling Daniel in for a kiss so very long-awaited.

 

Daniel didn’t protest as Seongwoo’s lips met his, let in the roaming tongue, deepening the kiss (that Seongwoo does with fervent and passion like he has always done). Daniel’s fingers lingered on the three moles that lined up like a constellation of the other, all the while feeling Seongwoo’s hand on his forehead, his lips having left, wiping away sweaty locks of bang. Daniel’s smile that appeared just then, shone no less bright that the bouquet of sunflowers, which lay long forgotten on the coffee table.

 

“I’m not a cat.” Daniel snapped for the sake of playful arguing.

 

“But your kids obviously are?” Seongwoo countered, pointing at Peter and Rooney who still were running all over the living room.

 

“They are your kids.” And Daniel pushed Seongwoo out, ignoring the other’s yelp as he almost fell onto Peter who, if human, would probably be sighing over his troublesome “fathers”.

/

 

That night, there was a kiss shared, one that smelt of kimchi-flavored ramen and poached eggs, as the TV played the cheesy lines spoken by Seongwoo-on-the-screen. Daniel did a mock-pretense, and Seongwoo couldn’t stop laughing because that was so extra and also because he totally did not look like that in the damn movie.

 

That night, there was a silence kiss on the mole at the corner of Daniel’s eye, one after so many trailed all over his body and there was Daniel who trembled, his eyes hazy and his mind in a daze, feeling so very loved and so very here.

“I miss you, Niel-ah”, Seongwoo-of-the-past whispered at Daniel’s ear lobe, his eyes clear and so very full of stars.

 

Daniel-of-then quietly thought, perhaps the two of them would continue to walk together, for the rest of their lives, despite sun or storms or anything else.

.

 

“Niel-ah”, Seongwoo nudged in the morning and Daniel’s groan, so very reluctant to get up. “M’ tired, lemme sleep some more”, he mumbled, pulling his blanket over his head and opt to not get up anytime soon.

 

“I know you are tired but--”, Seongwoo was still nudging.

 

“Then let me sleep!”, Daniel snapped. (It was morning, early morning and love is not worth it waking up early in the morning, really)

 

“Can cats eat sunflowers? Because you know my kids don’t listen to me....” Seongwoo trailed off and god, Daniel did know.

 

There was no word exchanged as Daniel threw the blanket off and dragged his huge, dying body to wrestle his two cats out of the sunflowers, no longer so bright, while mumbling about the kids, Seongwoo’s kids, being the worst ones in the entire world.

 

And all the while, there was Seongwoo, admiring with the fondest smile a bundle of sunflowers and two cats, and also his biggest cat and the brightest sunflower out of them all)

 

.

.

/

Daniel-of-the-presence let his thought wandered as he stared at the white streetlamps, still in a daze after seeing Jisung and Peter and Rooney, jumping in irrational fear at passing cars. Seongwoo opened a sandwiched purchased from the closest convenience store (courtesy of his manager), and Daniel couldn’t get his eyes off him, even as they walked into the elevator of Seongwoo’s high end area, yet once again.

 

That night, Daniel saw Seongwoo collapsed after taking two green pills, taking a tiny side on a king’s size bed, one too much space and too much emptiness for one.

 

“Hyung-ah”, Daniel said at the air.

 

“Hyung-ah, I miss you too.”

 

(I miss you so much it hurts, although I’m not supposed to feel pain.)

                                                        

 

.

.

 

/

Seongwoo left the house for the entire next day, dressed in Westen attire and hair brushed up cleanly, leaving no trace of the man drowning in shots of alcohol in the morning of the day before, nor the one holding back tears. For a shoot, then an interview, Seongwoo said, having warned Daniel off following him for he would not want to be seen as going insane.

 

And Daniel, bored and with a lot in mind, spent the day playing with Rooney and Peter at the cafe with the logo of a not-so-cute female angel, one so very full of sunlight and aromas of coffee and gentle touches, up until the sky falls dark and the streetlamps are blindingly white.

 

.

.

Snow falls that night, and Seongwoo calls him over as Daniel arrived home, on Seongwoo’s hands is a bunch of ruled paper, torn at the edges, and a pencil. One man and one ghost silently sits on the cold floor, watching the beautiful snow and then Seongwoo speaks, so softly Daniel thinks it’s almost unreal.

 

“Jisung texted me.” Seongwoo’s voice is no louder than a whisper.

 

“And?” Daniel continues to watch Seongwoo, whose attention is still fixed on the papers and the pencils, even as he stares out at the snow.

 

“He said Rooney and Peter meows and chases air for no reason, too excited ever since you.”

 

“Animals can see us.” Daniel bites his lips, unsure what is meant and at this, Seongwoo offers a weak smile as he lays out the papers, spreading them all over the floor.

 

“Are you real, Daniel?”

 

The question stays unanswered, and Seongwoo stares fondly at the snow again and Daniel starts to think, about all the time when they hang out under the first snow of many seasons before and many seasons yet to come.

 

There is no hot chocolate this time, nor are there weirdly-shaped snowmans and snow angels and flying snowballs from a childish Daniel, running away as soon as he saw Seongwoo came. There is no Chirstmas party at Jisung’s, and there is no mistletoe kiss or peck on the cheek and the forehead and one their trademark moles. There is only Daniel, and Seongwoo’s hands which keeps making lines in the paper, and a room only lighted with a yellow bulb and a Daniel, biting his lips hard and raw at Seongwoo’s next words.

 

“Niel-ah, help me write a dying will.”

 

/

/

The “dying will” is scribbled on ripped ruled papers, torn from a leather bound note that always lies on Seongwoo’s table, next to the huge bed, filled with nothing but stupid things: The bed to Jisung, who has too many trouble dealing with surprise “sleepovers” of the uninvited; the books to Woojin, who probably would need them for references if he wishes to become a romance writer, an inner joke among their group; the car to Jaehwan, who would need it to re-learn how to drive; and of course, all the unused cleaning equipments to Minhyun (because he’s a cleaning freak and also a prick, this is indescriptable because Seongwoo crossed that part out in mid-laugh).

 

Seongwoo shoves all of the papers into an envelope, making them an imprompto not-really-a-dying-will filled with the most random things (about a matter that is not really random) that lies on the bedside table. He let himself fell on the bed, automatically sliding onto the left side.

 

There is something that urges Daniel to do the same and he does just that but on the right, staring intensely at Seongwoo who has his back to him, facing towards the unshielded window, where outside the lamps are still shining white and the snow still falls. The bed cracks, and Daniel suddenly see Seongwoo facing him, his eyes so determinded all the resolution in the world may as well has been in Seongwoo’s next move.

 

A hand reaches out, and then Seongwoo is trying to embrace the figure before him, only to find himself touching cold air.

 

“Hyung-ah, ...” There is nothing Daniel can say, when Seongwoo’s hands is still roaming for something not here, never here. And then he sees Seongwoo, no focus in the eyes and hands retracted and then he is smiling a smile that doesn’t quite touch the eyes.

 

Daniel waits for an answer that never comes, and Seongwoo has his back towards him again, again at the window and the falling snow, as if everything just now is only a figment of imagination, however painful. He is trying not to be seen, but reflected on the glass of the window, so very dark outside, is Seongwoo’s expression, twisted into something so agonizing yet remains unnamed.

 

.

.

.

/

“Seongwoo, as I arrived in heaven, even until I met you again, I couldn’t remember a thing.”

 

Seongwoo stays silent, and had it not been for a very quiet suck of breath, Daniel would have thought he had fallen in slumber.

 

“See, so I was always seeing the head angel and trying to recall everything, and then I would only remember the white lights, you know, at my death.”

 

“He would say, everytime, that I died of a traffic accident. I did not think so at the time.”

 

“But today I have recalled everything, you know. And that was true, a traffic accident did kill me.”

 

“So, Seongwoo, please stop blaming yourself, it was never your fault to blame.”

 

Daniel’s endless rambling are exact retellings of whatever pieces of memory he has acquired, ones with Seongwoo and ones beautiful and even ones not quite so. And then Seongwoo, so quiet ever since the start, lets out a silent breath and says one thing that Daniel cannot understand.

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“Seongwoo?” Daniel asks worriedly, hands wanting so desperate to shake the other’s shoulder before realizing that is not longer a task he is able to do.

 

“You did not die because of a traffic accident, Daniel.”

 

Daniel can hear Seongwoo sucks in his breath, his head digging into the pillows and trying to muffle quiet sobs.

 

“You died because of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing is, everyone has their own version of the story, and most of this is written in Daniel's POV so it may not actually be the way things go.  
> There is Seongwoo of course, but then again Seongwoo is dealing with the pain of the survivor and everything said is false but also true in some way.  
> The thing is, things get kind of, stupid later on? But don't be mad at the character because uhm, you have never been in their place.


	6. 5. Three years and the first white light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The traffic accident that is always mentioned is partly true.  
> Seongwoo is coping.

Here’s the thing, the most important thing in love is not emotions, but trust in your specific other(s). And Kang Daniel and Ong Seongwoo both can proudly declare that they trust in their partner for (self-proclaimed) at least one hundred ninety five point five million percents, rounded after the decimal point. The percent of trust put in themselves, however, would deplete so quickly all zeroes must be crossed and the decimal place moved up at least a couple of numbers.

 

.

(That year, Seongwoo received a call from his big cat at home, saying that there is something big and there is something to celebrate, and this something so important it needs to be declared directly, face to face. He also received a picture of Daniel with his signature smile and fingers making a V-sign, so excited the joy are going to burst through the screen, and would transfer from Daniel all the way to Seongwoo, who were filming at the other end of the world, in the beautiful suburbs of Italy. A bunch of hydrangeas, Daniel at that time demanded, Seongwoo needed to bring him a bunch of hydrangaes, in the color of purple and blue.

 

Seongwoo knew that Daniel had not been feeling well those days, with Seongwoo’s popularity sky-rocketing and Daniel’s more and more unstable dream. There was this invisible wall that neither had any success in tearing down, and it could be seen, clearly in Daniel’s avoidance to going out together, in their dates moving from restaurants to at home where Seongwoo was permanently banned from the kitchen, and at nightfall, Seongwoo would always make a call to Daniel who never returned from practicing, fatigue getting more and more often it was worrying. Seongwo would have to call Jisung every single time, asking him to take care of Daniel when Seongwoo was faraway and could do nothing except to expect his going back in three weeks where he would greet Daniel with kisses and smiles and hydrangeas and celebrate in joy for whatever good news Daniel cheered over.)

 

.

(Three years after leaving Busan for Seoul and Daniel received a ground-breaking news and felt all of his efforts paid off and dream came true, all in two simple words: Debut announcement.

 

To say Daniel was excited was generously playing it down, because he rambled to Jisung for over an hour and then spend the whole day planning how to break the news to Seongwoo in the most extravagant ways and then having to refrain himself from screaming everything through the phone in joy.

Recording and practice and shooting schedules were all up in planning, and Daniel became obsessed with practicing in endless rounds, thinking continously on the bright future with both of their dreams attained, him standing next to Seongwoo, no longer a worry and no longer falling behind, hand holding the promised wedding flowers of hydrangeas and how they are doing this together forever and for all. And then everything crumbled down a week later, when out of coincidence Daniel heard, that his company was planning to use their relationship, for any possible attention attracted was better than none.)

 

.

Daniel clearly remembers, he, four years ago got so up in the clouds only get dragged down and to do nothing but fall and fall, the feeling of knowing he was a convenient accessory of Ong Seongwoo – then (and now) a shining star. Of course, Daniel believed in Seongwoo, who would offer a hand and then they would go together through the steep hills, but was so very unsure about himself, unsure about whether he would be able to stand a thing so true it might as well be an obvious fact: that Kang Daniel was forever an accessory and never more.

 

It was another day arguing with the company, only to realize he never really measured up to anything, another day leaving everything behind to delve into music and to dance, another day laughing among the half-eaten bites of instant ramen of the boys that had been through thicks and thins and another day of hearing Jisung nagging him to eat and to not leave himself to starve and die, and (of course, always) another day of smiling at Seongwoo’s call and voice at the end of the day.

It was Daniel, at 2 A.M after practicing, hand still holding onto a bag from the convenient store, containing nothing but colorful jellies in shapes of bears and worms, taking out his phone to send Seongwoo a picture of this cool bread he just saw in the store, its shape similar to that of a T-rex.

 

And then, the first white lights came, in the shape of a car that lost its way and headed straight onto the sidewalk, where there is Daniel listening to a song about the future and being together and precious beautiful time. The music stopped, aruptly, and then Daniel was feeling his bones breaking and seeing blurry images of his blood, red all over the road and losing the feeling in his legs and then nothing but a black, black screen.

 

And at that moment, there was Daniel’s last thought in pain and before blacking out: “Sorry, hyung, there is no longer any promises.”

.

.

.

.

/

 

The third morning ever since Daniel first left heaven to fulfill his mission on earth, Daniel woke up to a bed half-empty. He can smell the smoke from food being fried, all over from the kitchen, and moves there to see Seongwoo in pink floppies and uncombed hair and an burnt apron, trying to flip a half-fried pancake on a saucepan dripping with oil.

 

A light smile bloomed on Daniel’s face, it seems that three years and still Seongwoo is still wrecking havoc with his terrible kitchen skills.

 

“Don’t laugh.” Daniel can hear the other’s curt tone, as a plate of pancakes, half burnt and the half raw is harshly placed on the glass table, which may or may not leave scratches.

 

And Daniel, being the one with a humor standard so low he laughs at things like the elasticity of monopolistic market and public debts, would unsurprisingly, bursts into laughter at this.

 

 

Seongwoo gets even grumpier after the first bite, and he then pushes the plate to Daniel, an action common of the time before, should the cook be Seongwoo (which often has the common results of Seongwoo going out to get medicines for a Daniel dying over stomachaches). This time, it is different however, and Daniel can’t do anything but to look Seongwoo in the eyes and softly reminds Seongwoo that he can’t eat, not anymore.

 

 

“Seongwoo, I can’t.”

 

The atmosphere drops as quick as it gets here, and Seongwoo silently dumps the entire plate of pancakes into the trash bin, and just as silently throws the pan into the sink.

.

.

.

/

“I always think, that it was I that deserve to die, you know?” Seongwoo whispers as the sun has risen all the way to the top, on his hands a glass of water and two pills in the color green.

 

“I always see you, a figment of my imagination that I can touch, always looking at me with condemning eyes. And then I would think about the things I have done and also things that I should have done, and then I realized, at the time, that I didn’t deserve you because I was the most terrible man in the world.” Seongwoo’s fingers clenched onto the glass they turns white and Daniel almost worries the glass would crumble under all the force.

 

“I thought, you had me, and I would question why, I selfishly want you to leave behind your ideals and dreams and just stay by my side, you know. I would question, if everything you had done was worth it, if it worthed more than me.”

 

“I told Minhyun, that you were stupidly selfish and I was mad.”

 

“And then Minhyun reminded me, that we human all are, selfish that is.”

 

Daniel does nothing but to listen to Seongwoo, who is letting out all the bottled feelings over the past three years. He tries in vain to rub Seongwoo’s shaking back with his hands of heavenly material, hoping there is at least the slightest touch the other can feel.

 

“Hyung, there are four days left. Is there anything left you want to do?” Daniel softly reminds.

 

Seongwoo eyes meet Daniel’s, and had it not been for the dying will (but not really) lying on the bedside table that had just been written the night before, Daniel would have thought, that maybe Seongwoo has forgotten it all.

 

“I want to go to Busan.”

Seongwoo says, his voice firm and sure and his hands curl into fists as if he has just made the utmost important decision of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Daniel is listening to just before the car crash is Campfire by SEVENTEEN (hence the title).  
> (What's your favorite detail so far?, I have found myself asking this a lot these day haha.)  
> (People say that this is sad but, I think it is, quote Seongwoo, meant to be so.)


	7. 6. Accessory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mostly stupidity that we won't quite understand.  
> Daniel isn't wrong to say that he did die of a traffic accident, not really  
> (or, everything is already revealed from the first chapter)

Seongwoo is the one who drives this time, right on the next morning after he made a call to the manager, speaking in hushed tones about needing a break and a trip to Busan, probaby longer than one day. He takes his car hidden in a garage faraway from the reporters who are always outside, and does nothing but just drives away.

 

The radio plays their song, “And July”, unfitting of the winter but fitting of them. And then Seongwoo is singing under his breath and Daniel dancing jokingly on the beats and sometimes beatboxing, and the only difference from the time before is that there is no one feeding Seongwoo biscuits (that frankly, do not taste good) throughout a long long drive.

 

Daniel stares out of the window, surprised at everything that has changed, resembling a puppy on a much-needed walk, in a land never seen. Seongwoo would occasionally look at him and thinks, should this be them of the time before, then screw driving, he would immediately park the car on the side of the road and push Daniel onto the seat and give him the deepest kiss until Daniel’s skin turns a rosy hue like that of newly-kissed líps.

 

.

.

/

 

(Seongwoo remembers clearly, the sound of his phone ringing as he arrived at the airport, at the luggage pick up, still deep in thought about where to buy the prettiest hydrangeas. He remembers clearly the constant notifications on his phones and pop-up messages and Jisung hurried speaking and Minhyun telling him to stay calm. Then there was Seongwoo rushing out of the airport with mind buzzing and everything blanking out and his luggages, left forgotten to run on the conveyor belts for numerous rounds.

 

He reunited with Daniel, not under the candle lights of the restaurant where Daniel had booked to celebrate the good news, not with flowers and not with music playing, but under the blind white lights of the hospital, with coldness and smells of sickness and bandages and medicine and choking pain. There was Jisung with a forced smile by the door to where Daniel was, and then there was Daniel, looking at the get-well-soon sunflowers on the bedside, smiling even whilst covered all over with bandages and stinking of blood and pills.

 

Seongwoo remembers so very clearly, Daniel swallowed tears at the words of the doctor (because Daniel when arriving at Seoul had made the promise of never to cry, no matter what and how and when and who), that his legs are so terribly broken he can only walk with treatment and practices and there is no certainty on whether he could ever dance again.

 

Daniel after the accident was still breathing and alive, but Seongwoo was not sure, everytime he sees Daniel smiling and his eyes becoming cresents just like before, if Daniel would ever be truly living again.)

.

(To Daniel, dancing was not a hobby, it was his dreams and his life and his everything, ever since he was a tiny chubby kid ashamed about his looks, admiring the street dancers with their cool moves. It was what he had done his entire life, effort and heart and soul all poured into something that he had now lost and Daniel was so close to the finish line just to lose it all. His smile was not the shine it had been before, sitting on a wheelchair day by day and being pushed uselessly to a direction that was completely off track, into something he had never wanted to know. The food was tasteless and the pills were bitter and Daniel did not, could not hear anything from anyone surrounding, even Seongwoo (especially Seongwoo).

 

The first and only time Daniel cried after the accident that changed it all, was when his feet stepped onto the broken pieces of the glass of water he was supposed to drink to get the stupid pills down, only to feel nothing, anything, even a little reaction after pain.

 

Sometimes Daniel felt unable to breath, his whole body shaking and shrank upon contact, his surroundings nothing but black, black and nothing else, his tears threatening to fall. He flinched at Seongwoo’s touch, eyes widened and scared and his head spinned at Jisung’s soft whisper and he could feel the swallowed pills starting to choke back up. There was a thought that resurfaced, time and time again, that he was useless and was the greatest scum and waste in the entire world.

 

Daniel chased Seongwoo again and back to his job, gave him the brightest possible smiles, ones not stained with ugly tears. He rewrote messages before sending, unable to accept his words, feeling like the greatest nuisance. He sent Seongwoo pictures of him at treatment and in practice, to trade his stumbles and fall and feelings (in vain, of vain) for Seongwoo’s smiles and no worries.

 

Three months of everything and Daniel could walk again and Seongwoo brought sunflowers because there was no hydrangeas in the flower shop near his newly-acquired penthouse meant for two. Daniel stayed in the huge house, almost bailing as he trailed after Peter and Rooney in stable steps, and Daniel is resoluted to never let himself be useless once again.)

.

.

 

/

/

/

Seongwoo remembers, when in the deepest darkest time after Daniel’s death, Minhyun dragged him by force to a therapist, yelling in words so obscene all of the images of noble gentle (but stuck up) Minhyun practically flew out of the window, in record time.

 

The sessions were few and far away, because Minhyun is not too free and without him, Seongwoo would never try to step out or put down his masks. Seongwoo cannot remember (or does not want to remember), however, who the doctor was or what their words were, the only things left in his mind from the boring, dragged out sessions meant for him to feel “better” and cope, were green pills and one question that was asked at a session, one at time unknown.

 

“What is it that you regret the most, Seongwoo?”

 

The therapist was tracing their pen on the clipped paper, and asking Seongwoo with a voice as soft as one would use when talking to an injured animal, pitying and probing and Seongwoo hated it, so very much.

 

(See, Seongwoo does not regret not protecting Daniel from the world, Daniel could do that on his own, Seongwoo does not regret the accident because he couldn’t have known it. His greatest regret, is having let go, and then Daniel, ever so strong, could not protect him from the dark corners of himself.)

 

/

/

.

.

In the past, a little more than three years from the presence, Seongwoo returned home to a dark room and silence and Daniel, cold on the floor, a first aid kit lying everywhere surrounding.

 

In the hospital with a Daniel, still unconscious on a white bed, his body covered with bruises and stings all over his skin, an ankle cracked due to collision, Seongwoo received the news of the one he loved so dearly collapsing due to collision and over exhaustion for extreme practice and severe lack of self-care.

 

And at this time, he knew, that Daniel’s smiles to assure Seongwoo the past months was of a Daniel bruised and pained, skipping the tasteless meals and ignoring sleep to practice endlessly and demanding treatment, ignoring the doctor’s precautions and ignoring everyone else. He also knew, regrettable, that a Daniel doing everything to dance again meant a Daniel that collapsed in their home and legs already broken now broken even more.

.

.

 

.

In the past, also a little more than three years from the presence, there was an Ong Seongwoo screaming in anger and stopping Daniel to leave home for practice with all of his might, that he was worried about Daniel, that Daniel should not care about all because it was not worth it, that he wouldn’t let Daniel once again practice to exhaustion and endure more pain.

 

And in this past, one very same, there was a Kang Daniel no less angry to find out the lock was changed and he was locked inside a house supposedly his as well, a Kang Daniel so thoroughly hurt when Seongwoo just could not understand his pieces of broken dream (even as he trusted that Seongwoo would understand, more so than he trust himself), only for Seongwoo to say a sentence that crumbled it all.

 

_“Can’t you just stop doing meaningless things?”_

 

And that was true, everything Daniel had ever done up until then was meaningless and pathetic, resulting in nothing. Daniel saw this in the eyes of his neighbor upon leaving Busan for Seoul, saw this in every rejection from an entertainment agency, saw this everytime he was not able to debut, saw this in the way he was never enough to makes people look for the second time. And everything, compared to a Seongwoo who so very long ago had already reached the top, it was true that Kang Daniel was not even close to being a convenient attachment, an accessory by Seongwoo’s side.

 

And in this very same past, there was a Kang Daniel, talking about a break up while still smiling the brightest smile.

//

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.

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|

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In the presence, there is a Kang Daniel looking at Seongwoo struggling to scratch his hair, which is hidden under a cap, a mask covering his face by the side of an empty street of Busan, the city by the wide sea. The snow is still falling, despite the sun is up and shining in the midst of a winter noon.

 

“Hey, Minhyun, it’s me”, Daniel heard him said to the phone, “free to meet today?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these days have been terrible because of various reasons and i'm mostly tired, so the quality of the work is, bad, I still at sometimes think all the hits come from me actually but.  
> We'll see.  
> let me warn you all though, there is absolutely no plot twists, no special events, so there should be no expectations because i would just disappoint you all.


	8. 7. Silver scripts, white light returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically a lead up chapter before the finale, there is nothing special, but there are many reveals.  
> Also me at the void at 3.30am in my time zone: should i change the ending last minute

(Daniel after demanding a break up did not wait for Seongwoo’s response, but dashed to hurriedly collect his things, in the atmosphere now pershaps too hard for one to breathe. Seongwoo pulled him back after realizing what he had just said, apologized relentlessly, and tried to force Daniel into a kiss, no intention of letting him go. Daniel firmly shut his lips and harshly gave Seongwoo a slap and glaring eyes, and then pushed a way a stunned Seongwoo and just left. For a week, Daniel turned off his phone, hid in Jisung’s spare bedroom, and pushed away all of Seongwoo’s attempts of contacting: from endless calls to long messages to apologies to knocking on his door every night despite his packed schedule. And Daniel’s silent answer in his mind, everytime, was that nothing was going to change, that this was meant to happen if not now then in the near future.

 

Daniel post break-up told Jisung while still smiling, all tears dried, that Seongwoo must have known, that Daniel was an useless jerk, that he should stay clear from Seongwoo for he would do nothing but drag the other down. Daniel post break-up had let Jisung embrace him even if this found brother was much smaller in fram, all when his eyes were wet but determined not to let a single tear fall. He told Jisung about everything, about the company, about the plan for attention that would cause Seongwoo nothing but harm, about how useless he felt and how he would go away forever and no longer bother Seongwoo, leaving the other alone.

 

Jisung at the time softly told Daniel that sacrifying would just pain his loved ones more, that Daniel needed to believe in himself and not just in Seongwoo, and that they were only hurting themselves. He let Daniel put his head on his shoulder, soothingly rubbing his makeshift brother’s huge back in large circles, trying to let Daniel cried out all the doubts and the pain.

 

What he did not realize, was that, Daniel, for so long, had already run out of tears.

 

(Many time after, Jisung told Seongwoo, in deep regrets because had him noticed the lack of tears, then maybe, maybe everything would have changed.)

 

In the midst of storm then, there was the second white light, and everything went crumbling out of Seongwoo’s hands.)

//

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.

.

 

 

Because Minhyun and Seongwoo both are not the greatest chefs, that night soul-Daniel gets to have the greatest laugh ever in the entirety of his afterlife, looking at two of Korea’s super star wrestling for the last spoonful of ramen’s soup and the last piece of fried chicken, servings that only last less than five minutes, eaten along with water because the great Hwang Minhyun, for the whole of his life, still cannot handle even a drop of alcohol.

 

“You dumbass, dragging yourself here to bother me and then giving a call as if  I’m the most free man in the world. You may as well just kick open the door while waving my house keys.” Minhyun snorts while failing to do an eye-roll, letting out a satisfied noise in pretense of just drinking something not plain water.

 

“And you are a dumbass for hanging with other dumbasses.” Seongwoo argues right back. (Fortunately for him, Jaehwan- the loyal believer of Minhyunism is unavailable at the time.)

 

“So what’s your business? How’s the treatment going?” Minhyun just get straight to the point, cutting off all small talks (like the boring ass he is, Seongwoo adds in his mind).

 

“Same old results, and nothing new, only good thing is that the sleeping pills are working well.”

 

(Minhyun was the one by Seongwoo’s side through the thicks and thins and at the time after Daniel, and their relationship was as close as that of Daniel and Jisung’s. Minhyun was also the one who knew about Seongwoo’s hallucations of many Daniels before, when there is nothing stopping Seongwoo from going insane but pills and even more pills.)

 

“So as you have already known, I come for business.”

 

The night has fallen and the party has ended, they both know that there is no need of hesitation and procastination and that there is a purpose after these all.

 

“You want it back?” Minhyun asks while tidying up, still the same clean freak like he has always been.

 

Seongwoo just smiles, and Minhyun finishes doing the dishes, picking up the trash and making sure everything is in order before turning back to the conversation.

 

From the bottom of the bedroom drawer, all properly arranged, Minhyun pulls out a paper shopping bag with printed silver scripts that sparkle under the lights, a bit dusty due to lack of touch, seemingly never once been used.

 

“Take proper care of it.” Minhyun says, passing the small bag to Seongwoo, who immediately pulls it close to his chest.

 

“Thanks, Minhyun.”

 

“That doesn’t suit you, where did my ungrateful Seongwoo go?”

/

 

 

And the first day in Busan passed with a Seongwoo who can’t keep his eyes of Daniel twirling around in fascination at nightfall in the city of sea, all the while keeping a firm hold on the paper bag gotten from Minhyun.

 

He looks at Daniel even as the clock strikes past midnight, and asks, so gentle as if Daniel would disappear at the lightest winds.

 

“Where do you want to go tomorrow? Anywhere in Busan.”

/

.

.

.

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(Three weeks after the break up, Seongwoo caught Daniel at the door to his tiny apartment, picking up Peter and Rooney’s stuffs that were left behind. Without thinking, he made a mad dash at the other, his hands holding on tight, intended to never let Daniel leave, ever again.

 

Please come back, he whispered then,

I love you, can we please not be away, I can’t live without you, Seongwoo had said, his arms pulling the huge Daniel into a locking embrace, then looked up to see Daniel’s smile, like Seongwoo’s favorite sunflowers, pretty and bright. He then saw Daniel dropping by Jisung’s, picking everything up, not forgetting Rooney and Peter’s cages, quietly following Seongwoo back to the huge penthouse that Seongwoo always dubbed as their home for two (and sometimes four).

 

He was happy to see Daniel taking care of himself, no longer leaving for gruelsome practices, overjoyed to see Daniel’s bruises fading and ankle better. He pulled Daniel in for yet another kiss after one, two, three or maybe more t the balcony of Jisung’s home after visiting him to express their attitude,  whispering at Daniel’s plush lips, that with Seongwoo, it would be possible to plant flowers on their window ridges, unlike the last time.)

 

(The day after, in his arms an eerily silent Daniel, Seongwoo read on numerous articles, their relationship with pictures of the balcony kiss in all the first pages and hottest news, in all kind of titles, negative and positive alike. There were talks, on who Daniel were, on how he would get everything being with Seongwoo and then talks about a fairy tale romance.

 

The second white light came from camera flashes of reporter, and Daniel found himself, never quite so exposed.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so hard to write, actually all the chapters after the coffee shops are so hard to write. this chapter is something that is only here because it needs to be here and i kind of hate it?  
> anyone have guesses though?
> 
> (also: the author compares this chapter to their management accounting class because they both sucks but they lay foundations....)


	9. 8. Kang Daniel, would you be by my side, for the rest of our lives?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the unspoken words three years before.  
> the reveal (but not really)  
> the end (but also not really?)

Daniel led Seongwoo to every corner of Busan, those that stays in his recollection of past Daniel, before and after Seongwoo: The fish cake stall by the train station where he once helped out a friend, the comic store at the corner of the street, behind his elementary school where his favorite webtoons sometimes have a nice deal, the square where nameless artists sing out their souls and passion, and a tiny cat café painted in soft hues of pink near the city center.

 

Daniel knows, somebody must have realized Ong Seongwoo,  the famous actor, through the camera flashes and the hushed exchanges of the passer bys. Seongwoo does not seem to care, however, and he extends his arm to lock around the invisible and intangible space that is supposed to be Daniel, turns around to the crowds and flashes a smile, one too much similar to Daniel’s trademark sunflower smiles, as if this is all a declaration that:

 

“Look, people. Look, the world. We are together, finally, and forever this time.”

.

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.

 

/

(Most of the newspapers created ridiculous rumors that almost crack Seongwoo and Daniel up, so very stupid from rookie Daniel trying to seduce Seongwoo, to Seongwoo being the sly fox of the entertainment industry luring innocent Daniel into his trap that was all set up. Daniel knew then, that there would be comments so terrible they were shocking to read, that there would be unimaginable assumptions about the two of them, there would be blessings as well as curses and harsh words, and there would be more reporters outside of their house, trying to capture them in any possible moments, immeasurably annoying.

 

But what caused Daniel to ponder the most, was not all of the looking down and harsh words and assumptions on he being a scum, but the article on the top of papers with most reads and reactions on the nature of their relationship, one that sounded of a modern fairy tale with main characters being Daniel and Seongwoo.

In this article and also many more, those that were the favorites of many, Daniel resembled Cinderella, all dirty with nothing on their backs, but with fortune had caught the eyes of Seongwoo the prince, who pitied Daniel and later was moved, then brought him to the fancy palace for a happily ever after that had yet to come. There are numerous comments congratulating Daniel, saying that he was so very fortunate, that Seongwoo was a saint for caring for people like Daniel, weak and having nothing, that the distance between them like that of Cinderella anđ the prince. And like many heartfelt stories, it was a love story that began with pity then fortune and finally love.

 

Daniel knew that Seongwoo was far from a prince and he was also far from being Cinderella. Yet the distance between them and the pity-turns-responsibility-turns-love is something hard to deny. Seongwoo was criticized because of Daniel, and Daniel was fortunate to have Seongwoo, and then Daniel realized through all the years they had met and had loved, that it was always Daniel stealing Seongwoo for comfort, and maybe except for allowing Seongwoo endless kisses, there was nothing Daniel had done for the other.

Daniel also knew, that Seongwoo loved him so much he could leave behind everything: the fancy palace, his place at the top of his golden-plated career.

 

And this bothered Daniel, who knew of himself as full of uselessness and meaningless things were all he had ever done, it was not worth it, it would never be.

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|

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/

Five years ago, there were an Ong Seongwoo and a Kang Daniel, messing around on the beach of Busan, kicking the white sand as the dawn fell.

 

Five years later (now), there is an Ong Seongwoo also by the seaside of Busan, sky a beautiful violet hue of dawn, and he remembers the times when Daniel would push him onto the sand and gave him fleeting Eskimo kisses, nose touching, fingers lacing on the wet sand that smells of salt and of the sea. And then Daniel would unlace their fingers despite Seongwoo’s whines, stood up and kick scratchy sand all over Seongwoo, or drop on him seashells dirty with sand. And then Daniel, ever the kid who never grows after the age of 12, ran far away as Seongwoo crawled up and chased a figured that had become so very tiny, reaching the horizon where the sun was coming down.

 

 

Daniel of the presence does not differ much, he also smiles then urges Seongwoo to chase him along the waves, the sea now reflecting the color of dawn. Only this time, there is only one trail of steps on the wet sand and not two, and there is no more kiss, those more beautiful than the magnificent color of the sky.

 

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/

There is one thing Seongwoo always remembers but acts like he has forgotten for he has buried it deep inside, something of the morning after Christmas when he and Daniel had their first kiss, at the beginning of it all.

 

Seongwoo of then woke up on the tiny bed of Daniel’s apartment, in all its glorious seven meter square, lacking Daniel, the personal heater that emits the most comfortable warmth beside him. Seongwoo remembers, seeing Daniel entirely focused on painting empty white plastic jars, ones as small as drug bottles, at a time so early the sun hadn’t even risen.

He remembers Daniel’s smile, on his cheek a wipe of paint and his fingers sparkling with sticky glitters, and he remembers his hands on Daniel’s back, then the half-finished jars left forgotten through the night and the morning and the following days.

 

 

 

Many years later, when Seongwoo reads the shaking scribbles in the black leatherbound note that once belonged to Daniel, the one with ruled papers, that just a day before the Christmas kiss, Daniel had poured out all of the contents of those jars once filled with green pills, then flushed them down as if doing that would make their existence invalid, as if there is nothing that had ever been there.

.

(The love of Seongwoo and the love of others are the fuel for Daniel, the maching functions, producing childish antics, the warmth Seongwoo hugs at night, the beautiful smiles that rock Seongwoo’s world and making him feels as if Daniel deserves the world and more, and all those habits that are annoying to people that Seongwoo finds cute.

But then no matter how good the fuel, a machine already broken without maintenance, would one day undoubtedly cease to function.)

 

The last words in the leatherbound note, also the last words of Daniel that Seongwoo ever hears, read:

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m so very sorry.”

 

“This is nobody’s fault but mine.”

/

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.

.

 

And Seongwoo of the presence, as the sun dives and darkness falls, the sky no longer a pretty purple (but it doesn’t matter because the most beautiful is right there in front of his eyes), stares into Daniel, his eyes shining of the whole galaxy of stars, pouring out his heart in a silver band and tender words and a knee on the sand:

 

“Kang Daniel, would you please be with me, for the rest of our lives?”

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/

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|.

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\---\

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(Ong Seongwoo, three years ago, ignored the entire world and all of the warnings of his company, ignored all the negative comments and the reporters and anyone else except one.

He laid out a table on the rooftop of their house, took time deciding what aromatic candles to buy, asked Jaehwan for a romantic playlist that ended up surprisingly put together.

 

He called Minhyun, and together they picked out a pair of rings, silver with the letters of OSW and KDN joined together, elegantly carved inside. A shining pair of rings put into a tiny box of velvet was put onto Seongwoo’s hand, and all of the sudden Seongwoo felt like tonight he will be made the happiest man on Eath.

 

He called Daniel, unworried when the call slipped into voicemail because Daniel must have been sleeping then, and left behind the message of “meet me on the rooftop”, one filled with lights and hydrangeas like the promise long before.

 

He waited for Daniel on the rooftop, the rings still shing ever so brightly under golden candles, only waiting for Daniel to stop being a sleeping beauty and wake up and come, and then they would together step into the light, not leaving till the very end.

 

But he waited forever and Daniel still did not come. For Daniel, in the apartment of seven meters square, beneath a light blindingly white, on the other side of the city from where Seongwoo was waiting with a lifetime promise --

 

 

Daniel was no longer able to wake, never again.

 

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Seongwoo of the presence ignores the itching sand in his leather shoes unfitting for the beach, ignores the chilling winds from the sea, looks at a Kang Daniel, real yet unreal with a smile more beautiful than moonlight, then pulls out a box of velvet.

 

He puts on himself the carved band of silver, directly on his ring finger, then raises his hand under the moonlight to admire the beautiful shine. And then, towards a Daniel who are so very stunned, he goes down on one knees, offers the remaining silver band, wearing his heart out in the open.

 

“Kang Daniel, would you become mine? Together, forever?”

 

And Daniel bursts into tears and nods, only to cry endlessly as Seongwoo tries to get the ring on Daniel’s intangible finger, only to see silver falling on wet sand, once and twice, again and again. Tears are all over Seongwoo’s moonlit face, and yet again the ring that is supposed to bind and stay drops through Daniel’s hands, which are trying desperate to wipe them away.

 

One, two, three, four, the ring continues to fall down from empty air, unable to stay onto Daniel, rolling into Seongwoo’s tightening hand.

 

The fifth time, the band falls onto the sand and the waves carry it, all the way back to the sea.

Seongwoo looks onto the waves, then tilts and looks at Daniel, as if the waves had accept it for him.

 

 

“I agree.”

Daniel replies, in his eyes something that cannot be said. No ring, no flowers, no rooftops with candles and romantic music, the only thing Daniel needs, is Seongwoo, and Seongwoo all alone.

 

/

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At the end of his life, beside Seongwoo is a smiling Daniel, a Daniel that stays even until it all ends.

And as the clock strikes twelves and Seongwoo leaves the world of the living, he can feel Daniel’s lips touching his, a sensation much missed and much welcomed.

 

“Daniel, how much time there is on heaven?” Seongwoo remembers himself asking.

 

“There is no time. Only forever.” Comes Daniel’s reply, and Seongwoo eagerly accepts.

 

Those hands, those smiles, those eyes and those lips, finally, once again, has become Seongwoo’s, once again.

 

* * *

Okay so this is not in the notes because it is important!!!

 

Daniel's death is warranted, it is coming and Seongwoo knows it best, hence why Seongwoo says Daniel died because of him.

The contents of Daniel's painted jars (the green pills) are his depression medications, but i think you guys already know this, Daniel has always got depression slants his thoughts about the entire thing and the accident is a major event in leading Daniel to his final decision.

There is no clear reason why Seongwoo dies, he just does, i personally thing it is unimportant.

 

And finally, the saying that people who commit suicide die a long time ago, that saying is kind of true, at least from my POV who is a suicide survivor haha.  
Bye guys!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it has finally ended lmao like the first time i finished something multi-chaptered without deleting it since 2k13. congrats to me.  
> normally i would say this is the time when i disappear for a year but then i realized wanna one won't be there after a year and i got sad.  
> i'm planning things but idk if i would actually write them (not that anyone would read but hey)  
> there are things not fulfilling trust me i know. but this is it. this story ends here. you guys can ask me questions if you want to?? (okay not many ppl actually read this but let me have hope!!)
> 
> the end?
> 
> (JISUNG BOYFRIEND IS ACTUALLY YOON JEONGHAN BECAUSE I LOVE SEVENTEEN AND IM A NERD.)


End file.
